


A Far Green Country

by travels_in_time



Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 04:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12291366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/travels_in_time/pseuds/travels_in_time
Summary: Gibbs' loyal St. Bernard is always there when Gibbs really needs him.





	A Far Green Country

**Author's Note:**

> Not really a story, just an unpolished scene that was in my head full-blown as I woke up from a sound sleep. I blame October, and the strange things it shifts loose in my brain.

His world had narrowed down to noise and pain, lots of pain. It felt like an eternity before Gibbs was aware of his surroundings again, but he knew it couldn’t have been; the gunfire had stopped, but he could still hear muffled shouts, running, furious yelling close by. 

He squinted at the figure leaning over him. “DiNozzo?” At least that was what he tried to say. Even attempting to speak made the pain spike sharper.

“Lie still, Gibbs,” Bishop ordered from his other side. She was speaking calmly, but Gibbs could hear the underlying panic. He wanted to reassure her. He didn’t have the strength. 

He tried to take a deep breath; could only manage a short, stabbing one. It was enough to ask what he needed to know. "Tim?" 

“He’s gonna be fine,” Tony assured him, as Bishop leaned closer to hear.

“Tim?” She glanced to the side. “He’s—he’s okay, Gibbs, he’s just—“

But that was all he’d needed, and he let himself relax, trying to focus on anything else, trying to forget the pain. 

“Gibbs!” The urgency was stronger in Bishop’s voice. “Come on, Boss, keep your eyes open, the ambulance is on its way, come on, you can do this—“

He couldn’t stand how frightened she sounded. “‘m okay,” he mumbled, and to prove it, he forced his eyes open again. 

Tony was still leaning over him. “Stubborn as always,” he said ruefully, shaking his head.

“Stop talking,” Bishop ordered. Something else moved in Gibbs’ vision, and he glanced over. McGee hitched himself into view, pale and with one hand clamped around his other arm. Gibbs could see blood oozing out from between his fingers but McGee was mobile, was alive and safe. “Tim, what do we do, we have to help him!”

“Bish—“

McGee sounded exhausted, and it wasn’t just the gunshot wound. Gibbs could see it in his eyes; he knew. He managed to jerk his head toward Bishop. “Help her,” he whispered, and McGee nodded, swallowing. 

“Boss?” Tony’s voice again, gentle, encouraging. “Come on, let’s go.”

He focused in, finally, on that steadfast figure. “Tony?” Everything was numb now; he discovered, with some surprise, that he wasn’t hurting anymore. 

“No—Tony’s not—“ Bishop was looking around frantically. “Tim! Where’s the damn ambulance? Gibbs, no, you can’t—“

McGee had managed to grab one of Bishop’s flailing hands with his injured one and was holding on tightly. “Ellie. Breathe.” Gibbs spared a glance away from Tony, and McGee met his eyes squarely. “We got this, Boss. It’s okay. Go with Tony.” Gibbs stared at him a moment longer and then nodded, just a fraction, and McGee closed his own eyes tightly as Bishop cried out. 

_“Gibbs!“_

“Probester’s right, Boss. They’ve got this. Time to go.” Tony stood up and leaned over, extending a hand to Gibbs. Surprising himself, Gibbs took it and stood up smoothly, moving easier than he had in years. 

He hung onto that hand a little longer than he should have, trying to find words. “Wasn’t expecting you,” he finally said, which wasn’t at all what he’d meant and yet managed to be true. 

Tony grinned at him, wide and easy and so familiar that it made something inside Gibbs ache. He’d missed that look, more than he’d ever thought possible. “Where else was I gonna be, Boss?” 

McGee had his good arm around Bishop now and she had her head buried in his shoulder, both of them still kneeling beside the broken shell on the ground. 

Gibbs frowned, and Tony said quietly, “Rule Eleven, Boss.” 

He looked up at Tony, uncertain. “Is the job done?”

Tony nodded. “It’s done.” Looking past Gibbs, his eyes softened. “And you did good.”

Gibbs turned to look as well. Bishop, still sobbing, had re-positioned herself so that she could keep pressure on McGee’s injury as he held her. 

They were going to be okay, he knew; they were strong, well-trained, they’d take care of each other and the rest of the team. Still, he hesitated. 

“If it helps, don’t think of it as walking away,” Tony offered. “Think of it as walking to.” 

He raised an eyebrow, and Tony elaborated. “Be a hell of an afterlife if I was the only one waiting for you, wouldn’t it?”

He hadn’t had time to think about it, make sense of anything, but everything crystallized in that moment. Hardly daring to believe it, he searched Tony’s eyes for confirmation, and Tony grinned again, the joy in his face telling Gibbs everything he needed to know. “Come on. I promised a couple of really important people that I'd bring you back safe, and I don’t wanna keep ‘em waiting.” 

Gibbs nodded speechlessly, and Tony laughed suddenly, throwing his arms around Gibbs impulsively as he’d only ever done once before. “Welcome home, Boss.”

**Author's Note:**

> Rule Number Eleven: When the job is done, walk away.


End file.
